


touch my neck and I'll touch yours

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alcohol, Brooklyn, Canon Character of Color, Explicit Consent, F/F, Meet-Cute, Peralta is suspended from rolling chairs, Spelling & Grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They go on, inch by inch, slowly getting through the details of The Great Pick Pocket of 5th Street -- what he took, what he wore, height/weight/race -- until finally Ann sighs a little and stretches out. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Diaz raises an eyebrow. "Is this too difficult for you, Ms. Perkins? You need a water or something?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	touch my neck and I'll touch yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cinemascope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinemascope/gifts).



*

"Spill it."

Ann looks up, startled. She's tempted to launch into a lecture about hospitality, but there are more pressing matters at hand. After all, that's why she's here, at Brooklyn's Ninety-nineth precinct and staring up at a seriously formidable Latina who has her arms crossed. "I told the woman at the desk--"

"Gina."

"Gina, yes, I told her that I'd witnessed a crime. I want to report it."

"Report?" The woman quirks an eyebrow, crosses her arms and leans closer, squinting to look Ann in the eye. 

"Stop frightening the civilians, Diaz," comes a voice that Ann attributes to a uniformed man turning the corner. "Diaz" clears her throat and eases up on the bad cop routine, but doesn't go so far as to smile. 

"Just being thorough, boss," she calls back in a clipped tone, then turns back to Ann. "Okay, I need your name for the record."

"Ann Perkins, I'm just here on vacation and I was carrying all my bags--"

"One question at a time, Princess." Diaz reaches around to the nearest desk and retrieves a notepad and pen, then makes room on the desk and hops up, crossing her -- leather clad, _wow_ \-- legs at the knee. "Address?"

They go on, inch by inch, slowly getting through the details of The Great Pick Pocket of 5th Street -- what he took, what he wore, height/weight/race -- until finally Ann sighs a little and stretches out. 

Diaz raises an eyebrow. "Is this too difficult for you, Ms. Perkins? You need a water or something?"

"I was just really hoping to spend this week outside of municipal buildings."

A young man rolls into Ann's field of vision on an office chair. "'I visited NYC and all I got to see was this crummy cop station!' Am I right?" He holds up his hand for a high-five and laughs, and honestly Ann isn't positive that she should touch him. 

Diaz steps between them, giving Ann what amounts to a pretty fabulous view of the detective's ass. "What the hell'd I tell you about eavesdropping on witnesses, Peralta?" She cocks her hip, giving "Peralta" one hell of an evil eye, Ann imagines.

"Uh, nothing in the last 24 hours."

"I'll make it clear, then. Quit it." Her voice is like ice, but when she turns back around (Peralta mournfully wheeling back to his desk, whining about being primary _anyway_ ), while her face still maintains its neutrality, her eyes are light. "We might still have 'The Big Apple Takes a Bite Outta Crime' in your size. It's pretty tacky." Diaz gives Ann a once-over, making no move to try and conceal it. "You could work it, though."

"Um. Thank you?"

Diaz gives a nod that's more like a little lift of her chin in Ann's direction and sits down again. "What brings you to New York?"

Ann squinches up her features. "Is this for the record?"

"Small talk can help civilians feel at ease, like the process is personalized just for them," Diaz recites, bored, as if from memory. Ann finds this just the tiniest bit adorable. 

"You know what would make this personalized for me?" she asks, gently, maybe a little bit teasing. 

"Yeah," Diaz mutters, only half-paying attention, apparently, before sitting up and focusing. "I mean, what?" There is a curious spark in her eyes that belies the casual way her arms drape across her lap. 

"Maybe, this is just an idea, but would you tell me your name?"

After a moment, Diaz snorts and Ann swears she even half-smiles. "You're good." She extends a hand. "Detective Rosa Diaz. You got any more questions for me?"

She's (probably, okay, definitely) joking, but Ann -- Ann's had one hell of a long day. "It's probably against your code or something, but do you wanna get, I don't know, pizza with me? Pizza is a New York thing, right?"

Detective Rosa Diaz flips her notebook shut, and that half-grin appears again. "Pizza is definitely a New York thing. Another New York thing? Professionally unethical behavior." She crosses her arms again and gives Ann another _look_ and this time Ann gets the distinct impression that she's giving off some sort of "I'm only in NYC for a fling" pheromone because there is zero chance that someone who catches bad guys and wears a _lot_ of leather for a living is giving her that look otherwise. "I could show you around a little. Make sure you aren't lured in by some crack pizza dealer."

Ann bites her lip and starts gathering her bags. "Crack pizza?"

"Crack _dealer_! I believe that was a misplaced modifier!" corrects Peralta, reappearing from God-knows-where with finger guns and a shit-eating grin. "Do I detect a _date_ , Detective Diaz?"

Rosa's cold response, turning around slowly with arms crossed, is simply to say "Eavesdrop again and I'll punch you. Ask about my dating or sex life again and my fist'll be where you wish it wasn't. Correct my grammar, and I'll use my foot. "

Her response is really, really hot.

*

"You neglected to mention that the beer here is _excellent,_ " Ann says, leaning forward to sip at the lip of hers without sloshing any from the glass. 

Rosa takes another bite of pizza. "Do I look like I'd take a lady to a sub-par establishment?"

"You really don't."

"Why _are_ you in town?"

"It isn't very exciting, I promise."

"Tell me," Rosa says, and leans back in her chair to watch the blush that creeps over Ann's cheeks. 

She picks at her pizza, slowly tearing off the crust in a perforated line. "Officially, to visit my sister."

Eyebrows. "And unofficially?"

"She lured me in with the promise of attachment- and drama-free sex." Ann takes a drink of beer and then almost spits it out, swallowing while coughing. "With men. Or whoever. Not with my sister."

"Pretty sure I'd have to arrest you for that."

"Oh, there's _no_ way you're getting me back to the precinct." Ann seems to have recovered from her faux-pas, though the lingering traces of blush still cling to her cheekbones and forehead.

"Not even in cuffs?" Rosa asks, slowly dropping her chair back to all four legs. 

Ann examines her, biting her lower lip. "You're flirting with me, right? Cause I can't actually tell. You're really hard to read--"

As far as Rosa's concerned, it seems like a good a time as any to try for a kiss. 

Ann seems to agree.

Actually, she seems to agree quite a lot. "We're drunk, though, aren't we?" Or maybe not. 

Rosa raises an eyebrow. "We could be. Or we could wait til we're not."

Ann smiles at that. "Do you bring girls to pizza places a lot?"

"Only the ones with excellent beer."

"You really need to learn about those modifiers."

*

"I don't think I'm drunk any more," Ann says quietly. Her bags are stowed in the back seat of Rosa's car ("I look like such a tourist.") and Rosa's jacket around is Ann's shoulders ("I can't think when you shiver."). The motor is running, and the classical station plays at a murmur. 

"I can take you to your hotel, if you want," Rosa answers.

"Can't you show me around a little, first?"

Rosa licks her lips. "If you wanna fuck, I could show you your hotel room." Her grip on the wheel is lock tight.

Ann exhales, all in a rush -- there's that blush again -- and says "I'd like that very much, actually."

*

The inside of her hotel room is _definitely_ a sight Ann would like to see. Of course, she barely wants or gets the chance to look around once they're on the private side of the locked door. Rosa takes no time to strip down, first taking the jacket from Ann's shoulders and folding it on a chair, and following it with button-down shirt and pants that practically peel off. 

As she looks at Rosa, clad just in utilitarian white undies and a sports bra, Ann can't imagine anything more stunning. 

"Your turn," Rosa says, lifting her chin and keeping her mouth tight. 

"Pants?" Ann asks. "Blouse?"

"Lose 'em," Rosa confirms. Then, "Handcuffs?"

"Maybe later."

*

"Hey, we can keep this on the down, right?"

Ann rolls over, looking ridiculously sexy for a woman who is wearing two shades of lipstick and whose hair spray apparently doesn't get along with hotel pillows. "Why?" she asks, recoiling a bit. "Are you ashamed? Embarrassed?"

Rosa scoffs. "Fuck no." She'd leave it at that, but Ann is looking at her expectantly and that usually means people want some sort of explanation. Fuck those people. But not Ann. Whatever that means. "I just don't want these numbnuts I work with to have anything to tease me about."

Ann considers this, drawing her tongue slowly over her lower lip. "So, you're ashamed?"

Maybe its rude, but that's hilarious, okay, and Diaz _has_ to laugh. "Jesus, Ms. Perkins. This has been the least terrible hook-up I've had in months."

"Ms. Perkins is my _mom_ , Rosa. Total mood killer." But Ann is smiling in the way that means she's joking, and the mood is totally _not_ killed. She wiggles around until she's half-sitting up while looking at Rosa -- a serious feat when wrapped in a sheet. "And you'd better hope that was a compliment, Detective Diaz, or I might have to recant my testimony."

"Nah, wasn't really." Rosa shrugs, willing herself not to smile or look Ann in the eyes. Her resolve doesn't last long, and she turns, quirking her lip. "But this is." She punctuates with a kiss, and it doesn't take too much conjecture to figure out that Ann isn't mad at all.

*

"Got a feeling we'll get this guy in no time," Rosa says, when they exit the elevator. Ann has her bags in tow (having had the foresight to grab her bags and cellphone before disappearing in a strange city at night while her sister awaited word of her arrival), and Rosa just has her issued weapon and her leather jacket for accessories. Her hands are in her pockets. Better there than figuring something else out. "But just in case, I can't allow you to leave town until you hear from me, okay?"

"You and your numbnut friends have a week until my plane leaves. Unless you want to use the case as an excuse to see me again, and then dinner and my plane ticket are on you." Ann's teasing, but not teasing at all, and that kind of thrill makes Rosa want to do something crazy. She could carry Ann's bags to the taxi, she could lean real close and--

Ann ducks her head against the lights of the lobby and kisses her, right in the middle of everything. Nobody hoots or hollers or claps or arrests them, and it's pretty excellent. 

"I'll call you," Rosa says, clearing her throat.

"You should take me to a museum tomorrow, on lunch break."

"Crime doesn't take breaks."

" _I'll_ call _you_." Ann grins and heads towards the revolving front doors. Rosa's hands are still in her pockets. Ann doesn't see, but Rosa even smiles. A little.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this works for you, requestee! I couldn't resist your suggested crossover and seeing my favorite ladies interact. Thanks to mage_girl for the beta and hand-holding.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Paper Trail](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457834) by [SapphoIsBurning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning)




End file.
